A tractor unloads a sarcophagus from a van. Through a love tunnel, we watch a couple of eyes looking out of the sarcophagus. We hear groans. The tractor slips it is cargo into an opening in a rock wall, as though entombing the . The metal doors clang shut. kassy has arrived.

Half Boschian nightmare, half inquisition, Maine Part 2 drips darkness. It seeps. Terrifying methods of harness and implacable pain disturb the psyche. kassy comes repeatedly during the time that PD beats and shocks her, as though big o is a form of weeping. And PD, the quintessential Mephistopheles, assumes his rightful place animalism the gate of the abyss.

Lying prone on a metal grate, kassy’s limbs are fastened to contradictory corners, her ankles fastened toward her head. Her hands, in mitts, are fastened toward the feet. Her knees, stretched to the side, leave her fully open. The rope from one toe is looped around her face underneath her nose, and bound back to a toe on her other foot. Her tongue is drawn fully out of her face hole. Mr. Pogo tests her gag reflex. Her feet are caned. She’s choked by smth as elementary as water sprayed into the back of her mouth.

Standing, her neck and wrists have been encased in enormous stocks. A chain, just a adult baby short, attaches em to her cunt. Nipple clamps catch on the chain. A naughty rod slashes her palms. The stocks are then manacled upward and her ankles locked in a single shackle. She's f0rced to stand upon a ottoman of spikes. Cattle prod. Cane. Then her ankles are in stocks too. A metal post rising from the ankle stocks is buried in her cookie. Her vagina is wired, delivering a continuous stream of shocks. Now the beating acquires unattractive. Breasts, arse, the midst of the back. Rapid, unthinkable striking. She comes over and over. As she’s being whipped, that babe asks approval and it is granted. kassy comes twice greater amount.